


i close my eyes and you lead the way

by montecarlos



Category: Motorcycling RPF
Genre: Canon Compliant, Cuddling & Snuggling, Insomnia, M/M, Sleeping Together
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-19
Updated: 2021-01-19
Packaged: 2021-03-17 04:21:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,201
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28843023
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/montecarlos/pseuds/montecarlos
Summary: He ends up crashing out of the race the next day, his sense dulled by his lack of sleep. Valentino pastes on his media face, tells everyone that the problem is clearly with the bike and nobody dares say anything to the contrary. But Uccio corners him after the meeting with his engineers, dark eyes taking in the shadows under his eyes.“You didn’t sleep last night,” His tone is firm and accusatory. “What’s wrong?”
Relationships: Marc Marquez/Valentino Rossi
Comments: 5
Kudos: 31





	i close my eyes and you lead the way

**Author's Note:**

  * For [bokeiji](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bokeiji/gifts).



> It's been a while since I wrote something but it feels good to get this one out. I suffer from insomnia sometimes so it was quite a cathartic experience - this is set during the 2013 season and is mostly canon-compliant, I guess. Title comes from Dreamland by Years & Years and Pet Shop Boys. Thank you to A and I for the pep talks lmao. 
> 
> This fic is for my darling D, as it is her special day. Happy birthday my love, my life <3

Valentino first notices it in high school, but back then it’s easy enough to pass off due to the stresses of homework, exams and studying. He lays in the dark for hours, underneath the cool sheets of his bed, waiting for sleep to claim him. His parents do all they can to help - set up a schedule, make his bedroom comfortable, music, white noise, lavender baths and everything else they could think of. His mother refuses point blank to allow her teenage son to take any kind of medication, so Valentino has to lay awake for half the night, until he hears the birds singing outside and the threat of the sunlight begins to creep through the tiny gap left by his curtains. It becomes more and more apparent as he gets older, and despite him dropping out of school early to focus on motorbikes, the sleep problems still haunt him. He manages to snatch what he can, but there are several occasions when he’s running on minimal sleep and he barely manages to wrench himself off his bike at the end of the race - until the evening that he wins the Italian 125cc Championship. 

Uccio manages to procure some white wine from somewhere and they take it in turns swigging from the bottle. It’s not their usual poison but Valentino will take whatever he can get, he’s still high off the feeling of winning and the trophy is still gleaming on the bedside table. The evening seems to melt away into wine-covered memories, and they end up tumbling into bed together. It’s not the first time that they’ve shared a bed, they’ve been best friends for as long as Valentino can remember. In the past, Valentino has laid awake, staring up at the ceiling as Uccio snores at the side of him, curled around his own pillow. But this time is different - Uccio curls around Valentino, pulling him into his chest, and he feels himself relax against the warmth of his best friend’s body as the sound of Uccio’s snores fill the room.   
  
“Vale?” He jolts at the sound of Uccio’s voice, thick and heavy, and opens his eyes what feels like a few moments later to find himself still curled up against his best friend. “You were asleep,”   
  
Valentino raises an eyebrow. Usually, he’s up well before Uccio, having spent most of the night tossing and turning. But this time, he’s fallen asleep for more than a few hours, his watch reads 7 AM. He knows that it’s not the alcohol, it’s something that he’s tried many times before with no success - Uccio is still curled around him and is making no effort to move at all, and that’s when Valentino realises the magic ingredient to allowing him to sleep.   
  
_Cuddles_.   
  
Uccio has a few flaws - he’s loud and he’s messy, but Valentino cannot fault him in his loyalty. As the months melt away and Valentino finally makes the step up from national leagues to the international stage, Uccio stays by his side after every race, handing him his water bottle and cap. He’s there before the start of every race, a constant presence by his side. In the evenings, they fall into bed together, Uccio curling around him. It’s not a sexual thing - they had kissed once when they were fourteen and never spoke of it ever again - but it’s the only way that Valentino can sleep. Uccio never complains, not once, not even when Valentino will drink at after-parties and he stumbles back at the crack of dawn to find Uccio waiting for him with tired eyes silently. As they get older, their routine never falters, not even when Valentino begins to get more and more female attention. He’s not been without it - he is after all, Italian, and they’re known for being attentive and passionate lovers, but the bike and his career always comes first. He fucks random girls every race weekend, but he never stays the night. He always slopes off back to his own motorhome or his own hotel room, and Uccio is always there. Sometimes he’s asleep himself and sometimes he isn’t, but when he senses Valentino slipping under the duvet, he immediately and instinctively moves to curl around him, pulling them closer together. Valentino finds his eyes growing heavier and heavier, lulled into sleep by the ever-present sound of Uccio’s snoring against his ear. The night he wins his first premier title is the best night’s sleep he’s ever had, even though he and Uccio stay up until the early hours of the morning, half drunk, unable to keep their eyes off the trophy. Their routine barely changes as Valentino wins title after title, until the day he meets Marc.   
  
It’s quite unnerving at first to Valentino that there’s someone competing in the championship who had, maybe still has, a poster of him on their bedroom wall and worshipped him as an idol. But Marc is far from the fanboy that Valentino remembers meeting briefly when he was a tiny child, this Marc is no longer a child. He’s still a fanboy, to the extent, that when Valentino congratulates him on his first ever pole position (in his second ever MotoGP race) the Spaniard looks like he wants to cry with happiness. But this adult Marc is _hot_ . He’s all golden skin and dark curls and a wide smile, and there are a few times after races that Valentino will retire back to casa quarantesei for a shower and he finds himself imagining Marc on his knees before him, those plush lips all swollen with saliva - he jolts himself out of the images and towels off a little more vigorously than usual. Uccio is waiting for him in the bed already, and remains silent for a moment as Valentino slides beneath the cool sheets.   
  
“Are you okay?” Uccio’s voice is soft and comforting.   
  
He can sense Valentino’s discomfort - it’s visible not only in his body language, but Uccio _knows_ Valentino. He can read him like the back of his hand. Valentino murmurs something about the race in an attempt to placate his best friend and Uccio nods wordlessly, his breath brushing against the back of Valentino’s neck as he turns out the light. The snores fill the room about ten minutes later, but despite having Uccio wrapped around him as always, he can’t sleep. Uccio sleeps soundly by his side, but Valentino stays awake half the night, his thoughts full of _Marc_.   
  
He ends up crashing out of the race the next day, his sense dulled by his lack of sleep. Valentino pastes on his media face, tells everyone that the problem is clearly with the bike and nobody dares say anything to the contrary. But Uccio corners him after the meeting with his engineers, dark eyes taking in the shadows under his eyes.   
  
“You didn’t sleep last night,” His tone is firm and accusatory. “What’s wrong?”   
  
“Nothing,” Valentino snaps back. “Just had a lot on my mind, that’s all, I was just thinking about the race and other things,”   
  
As always, Uccio doesn’t push for a better answer for which Valentino is thankful, he didn’t fancy having a conversation with his best friend about why he’s unable to sleep because of a twenty year old Spaniard. But the sleep problems continue, even when he goes back to Tavullia. He sits awake half the night, thinking about Marc, the hours melting into one another and before he knows it, the early morning sunshine is creeping through the gap in the curtains. He blinks and a cup of coffee appears at his elbow, Luca staring down at him with knowing eyes. He looks older than his sixteen years, and Valentino is suddenly reminded of the fact that Marc is only four years older than his baby brother. His thoughts fill with Marc again, with the wide-toothed grin and the pale golden skin until he’s nudged by Luca again.   
  
“I heard you tossing and turning all night, you aren’t sleeping,” He chooses to ignore the blush spreading over his brother’s cheeks.   
  
“Okay, _mom_ ,” Valentino replies, rolling his eyes.   
  
Luca returns the expression, nudging the cup closer. “Drink up, fratello,”   
  
Valentino does, and although it’s good coffee, it does nothing to soothe the tiredness that is beginning to creep into his bones. He ends up passing out on the couch a few hours later, only snatching a few hours here and there - but the strangest thing is that he dreams of Marc. He dreams of dark chocolate eyes and of soft, dark hair and he only jolts awake when Uccio shakes him gently, a cup of tea this time appearing by his side.   
  
“We need to talk,” Uccio says quietly and he sinks into the couch next to Valentino, the older man taking the cup from his friend.   
  
“About what?” Valentino feigns confusion but Uccio knows him better than that.   
  
“You didn’t sleep the night before the race,” Uccio says, and it’s so matter of fact that Valentino knows he can’t deny it. “You’ve not been sleeping at all,”   
  
“I’m fine, I’m just stressed with the bike and everything,” Valentino murmurs out, but he knows the excuse is half-hearted.   
  
Uccio accepts it again, as expected - he’s always been at Valentino’s side and supported him throughout everything, but Valentino still thinks that his best friend will not understand why on earth he is daydreaming about a twenty year old rookie when he should be focusing on the season ahead.   
  


* * *

  
Things don’t improve at the next race, although Valentino wins at the Cathedral of Speed and the sea of yellow roars louder than usual, he still feels the tiredness sinking into his bones. He shares a podium with Marc for the first time since the opening race and he can’t help but envelope the smaller man into a warm hug, high on the feeling of success and knowing that he isn’t just washed up, that he still has it in him to be a champion.   
  
“Congratulations, Vale,” Marc mumbles against him, smiling widely.   
  
Marc feels good against him, the shorter Spaniard giggling against his ear, their leathers sticking against one another, Valentino’s fingers brushing the top of the bright orange airbag. He knows that Uccio is watching the entire exchange with suspicion but in that moment, he doesn’t care. The podium ceremony soon finishes and Valentino begins to feel the tiredness seep into his bones after he collapses on the couch back at his motorhome, all media duties finally completed.   
  
“What was that between you and Marquez?” Uccio asks, breaking the silence.   
  
Valentino resists the urge to roll his eyes at his best friend - Uccio has always viewed Marc with suspicion since the beginning of the season - and while he is sure it’s probably more to do with Marc’s immediate success (he viewed Jorge with similar suspicion), he can sense the edge of jealousy in his voice.   
  
“Nothing, I was just congratulating him,” Valentino murmurs back.   
  
“Do you want to sleep?” Uccio asks with a sigh.   
  
Valentino nods wordlessly, and Uccio tugs him towards the bedroom. They are silent as they undress and Uccio curls around Valentino as always. He soon falls asleep as always, his soft snores audible over the buzz of the paddock and the teams working to pack everything away ready for the next race. But Valentino can’t sleep. He lays awake, his mind going back to parc ferme, to Marc and how good he had felt against him. After a few hours, Valentino slowly pulls himself out of the bed and out of Uccio’s grasp and pads off into the kitchen, he contemplates making himself a cup of coffee but ultimately, decides against it and pulls on one of his hoodies to take a walk. It’s around midnight and the paddock is quiet and calm. He feels his eyes slip closed as he finds himself wandering - the circuit is a different place in the dark of the night. Valentino loves the chaos and chatter of the paddock, of the fan's screams and the yellow flags that are waved in his presence, but it’s nice to be alone with his own thoughts for once. He ends up in the pit lane, ducking through one of the unlocked garages - leaning on the side of the wall as he glances down at the darkened tarmac, feeling the cool breeze wash over him.   
  
“Vale?” He stiffens at the intrusion, shoulders instinctively raising because he knows that voice. He’s not been able to get it out of his head. He whips around to see Marc staring at him, his gaze slightly guarded - the younger rider looks different in a soft looking hoodie, his hair mussed and fluttering in the breeze. “Sorry to disturb you,”   
  
“What are you doing here?” Valentino curses himself internally for the cruelty in his tone. He’s sleep deprived and grumpy, but it doesn’t seem to faze Marc in the slightest.   
  
“Couldn’t sleep,” Marc replies, moving towards where Valentino is leaning against the side of the wall. “Couldn’t stop thinking about the race or like the fact that I am here,”   
  
Valentino bites down on his lip. He almost wants to laugh at the irony - that the reason that he can’t sleep is standing right in front of him at a darkened racetrack also unable to sleep but for completely different reasons. “Yeah...I couldn’t sleep either,”   
  
Marc cocks his head. “Why not?”   
  
He hesitates. “I can never sleep after a race, I think it must be the adrenaline,” He decides not to mention the day before, or the week leading up to it - or the fact that he can’t seem to get the man in front of him out of his mind.   
  
“You should try hot chocolate, it works for me every time. You’re always welcome to come to my motorhome for a cup sometime...if you want to, of course,”   
  
Valentino feels his mouth go dry, but he finds himself nodding slowly at Marc’s suggestion. “Yeah, maybe I will take you up on that offer sometime,”   
  
It’s only the same as going to Cal’s motorhome after the race for a few beers, he reasons. Marc grins widely, showing off his lopsided smile as he gently pats Valentino on the shoulder. “I better head back, but remember, you can always come over for some hot chocolate okay?” He bids goodbye and Valentino watches him leave, the shadow of his hoodie covered body disappearing into the shadows of the garages, the warmth from Marc’s hand still appears to cling to his skin, even after he returns to his own motorhome and sheds his hoodie to climb back into bed next to Uccio.   
  
But he doesn’t sleep. He lays awake until dawn begins to break.   
  


* * *

  
Sachsenring is no better - but Valentino is able to add another podium to his impressive tally. He knows that the championship is still a long way off, but with Dani and Jorge both injured before the event even took place, he’s hopeful. The podium is the same as always - Cal joins himself and Marc and there’s a sense of brotherhood between the trio. It’s different from Dani’s quiet calm and to Jorge’s cocky destructive energy. Marc laughs at him, a short giggle brushing between his lips as they shower each other in champagne. Valentino gets hit by a rogue spray from Cal’s bottle and winces at the cava that stings his eyes - and he ignores the tiredness that eats away at his bones. As always, Uccio is waiting for him back at the motorhome when evening descends and the celebrations end. They crawl into bed together, Uccio curling around him, the air soon filling with his low snores. But Valentino again cannot bring himself to sleep. He replays the race again and again in his head - the warmth from where Marc had clasped his shoulder clinging to his skin - as he turns over, trying to think of anything but Marc.   
  
But all he can think about is how loud Uccio’s snores are. The offer that Marc had extended to him rings in his ears and Valentino glances at his watch. It’s a little after midnight. Worrying his lip, he pulls himself away from Uccio who rolls over with a grunt. He pulls on the most nondescript dark hoodie he can find and leaves the motorhome, the sound of Uccio’s snores following him as he walks down the deserted paddock. He passes by Jorge’s darkened motorhome, his breath hitching slightly - he doesn’t want to think about what his teammate would say if he saw him creeping towards the distinctive orange motorhomes that house the Honda team. His heart sinks slightly at first when he comes across the first one and it is in darkness, only to breathe a sigh of relief at the 26 on the door. Marc’s motorhome still has a dim light on and Valentino hesitates in the doorway for a moment. Taking a deep breath, he knocks on the door before realising that he isn’t sure if Marc is alone. However, before he can turn away, the door is opened and warm brown eyes stare into his own blue ones, widening ever so slightly.   
  
“Valentino?” Marc looks slightly confused. He’s dressed in an oversized t-shirt, that bears a familiar 46 on it and some threadbare sweatpants. “What are you doing here?”   
  
Valentino licks his lips. “I was umm...wondering if the hot chocolate offer still stands?”   
  
Marc nods silently and steps to the side to allow the older rider inside. “I hope I didn’t wake you up?” Valentino continues, glancing around the motorhome - it’s filled with things that he would have expected, a giant Catalan flag draped on the wall, a few pairs of motorcycle boots piled up by the door, the race trophy gleaming in the dim lights.   
  
“Alex is staying with our parents, and I couldn’t sleep anyway,” Marc says, moving towards the tiny kitchen, waving his hand towards the couch. “Make yourself comfortable, sorry about the mess,”   
  
Valentino sinks down into the cushions, still glancing around. Marc’s motorhome is very different to his own, but it’s to be expected, Marc is a young rider - there’s a sense of organised chaos. He spots a photograph of Marc and the baby Marquez on the side table, both dressed in mini moto gear. The younger is clearly no older than around five, and Valentino feels a smile flicker over his lips. He’s broken out of his thoughts by a warm mug pressing against his hands. He glances up into warm brown eyes and a wide smile.   
  
“Careful, it’s hot,” Marc grins and Valentino can’t fight the blush that dances across his cheeks as their fingers brush before Marc settles into the couch next to him, clasping his own cup. “So what was it this time?”   
  
“Uccio snoring in my ear,” Valentino murmurs out before he can stop himself. “Wait, I-”   
  
“It’s okay,” Marc laughs. “I get it, sometimes I share my bed with Alex, but he always ends up kicking me. Especially just before a race,”   
  
Valentino takes a sip of the hot chocolate. It's good - better than he could have imagined, Marc must have grated the tiniest amount of dark chocolate on top of the hot liquid, and it melts in his mouth.   
  
“It’s good right?” Marc asks, a smile playing in the corner of his lips.   
  
“It is,” Valentino says, taking another drink. “What’s the secret?”   
  
“Can’t tell you that, it’s a Marquez family secret,” Marc lowers his cup, wiggling his eyebrows. “My grandmother would kill me if I told you,”   
  
“I get it, my nonna is very protective over her lasagna recipe,” Valentino chuckles. “Thank you for this by the way,”   
  
“You’re welcome,”   
  
They fall into an easy conversation, until Valentino realises his eyelids are growing heavier and heavier by the minute. He jolts awake - not having realised he had even fallen asleep - what feels like a few moments later, to find that he is lying on Marc’s couch, a warm blanket thrown over him. Marc is nowhere to be seen, presumably hidden away in his own bedroom. Dawn has already broken, evident from the sunlight that is filtering through the curtains and Valentino wrenches himself upright. He’s in Cal’s and Colin’s motorhomes overnight before - but they are not twenty something rookies that are barely halfway through their first season in MotoGP. He needs to leave Marc’s motorhome before some photographer spots him and splashes the photos all over the glossy magazines and Lin gets wind of him spending time with a Honda rider. Jorge would never let him live it down. It’s easy enough to slip out of Marc’s motorhome, pulling his hoodie closer around his face to hide from the few early risers in the paddock. It isn’t until he gets back to his motorhome he realises that he fell asleep.   
  
His absence does not go unnoticed by Uccio, however. He’s able to placate his best friend with some bullshit about falling asleep in some random girl’s house near the circuit, though he’s certain that Uccio doesn’t buy it at all. Thankfully, he says nothing at the next race in America. Valentino shares another podium with Marc, trying not to grin widely at the infectious smile that has found its way onto the younger rider’s face as the cava once again hits him in the face. It’s the same smile that haunts his thoughts later on when he’s curled up in his bed, Uccio again snoring in his ear. Valentino finds himself outside Marc’s door and a ruffled twenty year old rider smiles widely at him, allowing him into his motorhome as he fixes him another mug of hot chocolate. He ends up falling asleep again on Marc’s couch, the same blanket as before thrown over him to keep him warm, and he leaves the motorhome in the early morning sunrise before the paddock wakes up. It’s only after Brno that Marc makes a comment on their arrangement, glancing up at Valentino over the rim of his mug.   
  
“Why do you always come here to sleep?” He asks, his voice almost syrup soft. Valentino gazes back at him - looking way younger than his twenty years of age, hair all mussed and a threadbare old motorcycling t-shirt that passes as pyjamas. “I’m not complaining, I’m just curious,”   
  
“I-” Valentino murmurs softly. He’s not sure he knows the answer to Marc’s question. “I don’t know why…I’ve always had trouble sleeping,”   
  
Marc hums over his drink. “Have you ever gone to a doctor about it?”   
  
Valentino shakes his head. “Mom didn’t want me using sleeping pills to function. It wasn’t until I was a little older that I realised that cuddles helped - and well, Uccio has always helped me…” He can feel his cheeks burn red but Marc doesn’t laugh at his words, he looks sympathetic. “But recently, it’s not been working…”   
  
“But this has? Drinking hot chocolate and sleeping on my couch?”   
  
Valentino nods wordlessly as Marc’s brow furrows. “I’m sorry…I bet the last thing you want is me intruding on your privacy all the time,”   
  
“It’s okay…” Marc’s voice is even softer. “Have you tried cuddling with someone else?”   
  
Valentino resists the urge to bark out a laugh. “Marc, I don’t know if you’ve noticed but I think it would be difficult for me to ask someone random to cuddle with me…”   
  
“I’m not talking about someone random,” Marc lowers his cup. “I was talking about me,”   
  
Valentino feels his cheeks grow pink again. “W-what?”   
  
“It’s just a suggestion, Vale? If you want to?”   
  
Valentino weighs up the situation in his head - he knows it’s a dangerous one, on one hand cuddling in a bed with Marc sounds like heaven and he may well get the sleep that he desperately needs, but on the other hand, he is scared that it may lead elsewhere. The thought of Marc discovering his hard dick against the crook of his ass and going to the media is a sobering one, but Marc looks so sincere and concerned that Valentino feels his resolve break and he nods silently. Marc smiles back in return and gently takes Valentino’s empty mug of hot chocolate away, guiding him to his bedroom. Valentino glances around the room - it’s fairly plain, but that is to be expected. Their bedrooms in motorhomes are merely a place to stay overnight. The room is taken up primarily by the bed, covered with a fluffy looking white duvet, which Marc pulls to one side. “Feel free to make yourself comfortable,”   
  
Valentino takes a deep breath and sheds himself of his hoodie before he joins Marc under the covers. The younger rider is a warm, solid presence at his side and although Valentino is used to Uccio by his side, Marc is different. They lay side by side, Marc’s heat burning against Valentino’s shoulder. “You can relax,” Marc says softly with a chuckle. “You’re stiffer than a board,”

“I’m trying,”  
  
“You said that cuddles really helped you sleep, what about if we try that?” Marc murmurs quietly, and Valentino nods silently.   
  
Silence envelopes the pair as Marc slowly curls around Valentino, his warm body brushing against the older riders. Valentino lets out the breath he was holding at the contact - Marc feels warm and secure against his back, the scent of Marc’s shampoo drifting up towards his nose. He feels himself relax against the younger Spaniard, Marc’s breath evening out behind him - and it isn’t long before Valentino’s eyes slowly begin to drop. Sleep claims him quickly, aided by the warmth of Marc wrapped around him.   
  
He wakes up to find that their positions have switched - Marc is still asleep, breathing deep and even, but now, Marc is the one tucked underneath Valentino’s arm. He worries his lip, realising that his morning erection is rubbing against Marc’s ass. Valentino glances down at his watch and notes that it’s around 9 AM - it’s the latest that he’s ever slept. Marc stirs underneath him at the movement as Valentino tries to put some space between himself and Marc, stretching in the sunlight as his eyes flicker open.   
  
“Morning,” Marc murmurs, voice syrup soft as he blinks the sleep away.   
  
“Morning,” Valentino whispers back, as Marc makes no attempt to move away from his hold, his head slightly turned towards Valentino.   
  
“How did you sleep?”   
  
Valentino wets his lips. “Good….like the best I’ve slept for a while,”   
  
Marc beams widely at him, his eyes darker than usual. “I’m glad,”   
  
Silence falls over them once more, and Valentino shifts slightly as though to move from the bed, feeling the cold air sweep over his body as he leaves Marc’s warmth behind.   
  
“Where are you going?” Marc murmurs quietly.   
  
Valentino can feel his cheeks turn pink and curses himself internally. How can a twenty year old rookie reduce him to a blushing shy mess? “I should go, Marc. It’s getting late,”   
  
Marc sighs heavily, the disappointment is evident in his face, but he allows Valentino to leave his bed. The Italian can feel dark eyes on him as he shoves on his hoodie, hoping that there are not too many people crowding around Marc’s motorhome. He pulls up the hood of his sweatshirt, hiding his curls from view as he slips out of the door, the warmth of Marc still clinging to his skin.   
  


* * *

  
Valentino is thankful for the short summer break, even though he ends up staying in the States for Indianapolis a few weeks later. His sleep schedule is no better - he hasn’t slept properly since he stayed with Marc, and even Uccio has recognised that he lays awake for hours during the night and is trying to persuade him to at least get some medication from the team doctor. But he refuses the offer, and once again finds himself outside Marc’s motorhome. Marc’s expression is slightly more guarded this time, but he allows Valentino to enter his space. A mug of hot chocolate is placed in his hands before Marc asks him if he wants to spend the night once more - and like that, the routine starts again. Valentino wakes up the next morning, slightly earlier than he planned, but early enough that the paddock is still quiet and leaves the motorhome silently, his erection still pulling at his sweatpants as he makes the short walk back to his own motorhome - and so it carries on until Sepang.   
  
It’s _always_ Sepang, Valentino realises. The evening begins as any other, Marc has the mug (a bright yellow one, which Valentino suspects is new) of hot chocolate waiting and they drink together, making small talk about the race. The trophy that sits on Marc’s counter is not the first place that Valentino has grown so used to seeing, that honour went to Dani today, gleaming in the dim light. They collapse onto Marc’s bed as always, Valentino taking in the scent of the washing powder and faint cologne that he now knows to be Marc’s smell.   
  
“Thank you for doing this again, I don’t know how I will repay you-” Valentino says, turning slightly to look at the younger rider.   
  
Marc looks quiet and tentative, his lip caught between his teeth.   
  
“You okay?” Valentino asks.   
  
“There is something you could do-”   
  
“Name it,”   
  
“I want you to kiss me,” Marc blurts out.   
  
Valentino feels his mouth fall open. “What?”   
  
“Please, Vale. I know that you are attracted to me, I’ve seen you leave the bed all excited every morning during race weekends, and I’ve wanted to kiss you for some time now-”   
  
Valentino watches the Spaniard carefully, taking in the fear that surrounds the dark brown eyes and nods imperceptibly, before he collects Marc’s face in his hands. Marc doesn’t break his gaze as Valentino leans in, capturing the younger rider’s lips against his own. They’re softer than he expected, albeit slightly chapped no doubt from the helmet that Marc has had on during the race but it feels good, it feels _right._ Marc moans beneath his lips and Valentino deepens the kiss, his thumb slowly rubbing against Marc’s cheek as the Spaniard’s mouth opens up beneath his own. Marc tastes of hot chocolate, the sweetness clings to Valentino’s tongue as he explores the younger man’s mouth, committing every inch to memory. Marc kisses back with equal veracity - his body melting against Valentino’s as the kiss deepens further, tongues tangling together as the two men give into their emotions.   
  
Marc is the first one to finally break the kiss, reluctantly pulling away from Valentino with wide eyes and swollen lips.   
  
“Was that okay?” Valentino asks softly, his hand still brushing against Marc’s cheek, his lips still tingling from Marc’s touch.   
  
“Yeah... Do you want to do it again?” Marc cocks his head slightly, his tongue darting out to wet his plush lips and Valentino feels himself smile.   
  
“Of course,” He whispers, leaning in once more.   
  
They eventually fall asleep a few hours later, both with lips swollen from kissing. They stay wrapped around each other as always, Marc curled up against Valentino’s chest, his hand fisting into the baggy t-shirt.   
  
It’s the best night’s sleep that Valentino has _ever_ had. 


End file.
